


I Love You, Forgive Me

by RoyEdIsMyAesthetic



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alternate Ending, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fatherhood, Letters, Love Letters, M/M, Marriage, Married Life, Mutual Pining, Pining, Post-Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-War, Pregnancy, Slice of Life, War, Weddings, royed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-08 08:20:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19103305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoyEdIsMyAesthetic/pseuds/RoyEdIsMyAesthetic
Summary: Letters from Roy to Ed.





	1. August 5, 1917

Fullmetal,

 

You know me.

I’m a bastard, a dummy, an idiot, and a grade “A” jackass.

I am also someone who is very happy for you.

I’m cocky, I’m lazy, I’m arrogant, and I am horribly dishonest. And it is because of this dishonesty that I am writing to you the morning after your wedding day, to which I now realize, I forgot to thank you for inviting me to.

Thank you. It was lovely. And I hope, no, I  _know_  that you and your wife will have a wonderful life together. You make a wonderful, beautiful couple.

I am so very happy for you.

I am finding this to be very difficult to put into words, but there has been something on my mind. As I’ve stated before, I am dishonest. I’ve kept many different truths from you over the years, and I did so, every time, because it was in your best interest. Or at least, that’s what I thought. And maybe this truth really isn’t in your best interest. Maybe this truth is something you are better off not knowing, because it isn’t hurting anyone but myself. A part of me has always felt I like deserve that pain. However, I am glad to say that you are my friend. And I’d like to think that perhaps, you wouldn’t wish to see me hurt. To see me  _genuinely_  hurt. And so, though it is a rare occurrence, I’d like to tell the truth because I believe that doing so will be of great benefit to me.

This is a selfish letter, as well as a painfully honest one.

I stayed up very late last night, and so I am experiencing difficulty in understanding the motivations that I held in the past, nevermind those that were held by others. But to my understanding in the present moment, Miss Winry Rockbell asked me to walk her down the aisle because she was at a certain loss. Hughes is gone, Alphonse was your best man, and I was the only older man with a strong connection to the both of you. I remember sitting at my desk and writing her a letter back, accepting the proposition after a great deal of deliberation.

While it wasn’t the start of the sort sickness I hold within, it was a grave mistake that was made along the way, and it was ultimately what led me to this letter. My acceptance of Miss Winry’s proposition was a grave mistake in retrospect. But you see, very few times in my life have I ever doubted myself. You and I are alike in that way- we are both very sure in our own abilities. And in that moment, I really, truly thought that I could suffer just a bit more. I was convinced that I could hold my tongue and make it through, just as I always have.

And besides. You were you. It was the least I could do for my dear friend and his new bride. I was very happy for you both, and I still am.

The ceremony was quite beautiful, and you both looked quite handsome in white. I saw your face as I walked Miss Winry down the aisle, and I can say that I too was quite taken when I first caught sight of the bride in her mother’s wedding dress. It was in that moment just before I stepped through the door with her on my arm that I came to a realization that I’d imagine that some brides come to as well.

I came to a realization that I was mistaken. I realized that this was not the end of something, but rather, it was the beginning of something without an end. As we steadily walked toward you at the other end of the aisle, reality hit me harder.

I was already in a great deal of pain. I hope you understand this, and where all of this is all coming from. It doesn’t come from malice, but from injury, and the realization that such a thing will endure. As I said before, this is by no means a selfless sort of letter.

We came to a stop before the officiant. Once I stepped off to the side, I bowed my head and pressed a hand firmly over my mouth. I stayed in this position for the remainder of the ceremony. At one point, you saw me crying and had the officiant stop speaking so you could ask if I was alright. I am sorry for causing you concern and distress on such a special occasion.

Again, thank you for inviting me to your wedding. It was beautiful, and I am sorry for leaving so early during the reception. I am also sorry for not saying goodbye.

I know how much this all meant to you, and it brings me pain to me to know that this letter is so unfair, and will most likely be the cause of heartbreak in someone I care for so dearly. At first, I was trying to convince myself that I was the only one getting hurt by this truth. But through the writing of this letter, I have come to terms with the fact that this is not the case.

So please know that I am being quite sincere when I say that I am happy for you. Know that I am telling the truth when I say that I have loved you for a very long time.

Forgive me.

 

Yours,

Roy Mustang


	2. December 3, 1917

Fullmetal,

 

I wrote several drafts of this letter, each time getting only a few sentences in before balling up the paper and tossing it into the waste bin. I was at a struggle for words to say. And still, I find it quite difficult to get my wording to the place I would like it to be. I imagine that you may be struggling in the same way. Perhaps that is the reason for your lack of a reply to the first letter that I sent several months ago. Or rather, that is simply the very best outcome I could hope for, coming out of all of this.

I understand if you're confused. I understand if you're angry.

I'm sorry if you're confused. I'm sorry that you're angry.

I'm sorry for reaching out again like this. I suppose that you weren't expecting it. But I would just like to reiterate that I was wrong in my actions, and if you don't feel like calling or sending a letter in response, I really wouldn't blame you.

Though what I said in the previous paragraphs was something I felt had to be addressed, it is not the primary subject of my letter. Though he wasn't aware of the circumstances, Alphonse was made aware that a certain rift was between us. I'm not sure if Alphonse informed you of his plans, but after he, May, and little Jian came to visit you, the family came to visit myself and others in Central.

Jian is a pretty unique name for a kid, or at least it is around here. But I was informed that it means 'strong' and 'healthy', and wish him nothing less. Maes had quite a bit of faith in me as a person, but he never let me hold Elicia when she was as young as Jian is now. He just became overly attached. Maes really hogged Elicia, and wouldn't let anyone but his wife hold her for more than two seconds at a time. And so, holding Jian was the first time I ever held a baby.

He was small. He smelled sort of nice, I suppose. He squirmed a lot in my arms, and I was worried about accidentally dropping him in the first place, so that worried me a bit. Jian already looked just a bit like you... Gosh... Poor thing...

I handed Jian back to May, at which point Al asked if anything had changed within me. He was curious as to whether or not holding his son had an emotional impact of some sort, and made me wish that I had settled down and had children of my own.

Your brother was disappointed.

We all sat down, drank lemonade, and talked while Jian took a nap on my sofa. It pleased me to hear that your relationship with your wife is stronger than ever, and not only that, but your marriage will be a fruitful one.

I did learn something from this experience, which is that I know nothing of fatherhood. I know that you didn't ask for my advice. But as someone who has known you for a long while, I felt like I had to reach out during this maybe stressful time in your life.

To be honest, the news of you becoming a father in a couple months time came as a bit of a shock to me. You were so young when we first met. I was pretty young too- I think I was in my mid twenties at the time. You were always so cynical back then. You really went against the grain and did things as you thought that they should be done. I would tell you to do one thing, and you did another. You were stubborn, strong-willed, and really just a loose cannon. Let's face it, you wouldn't have gotten into half as much trouble if only you'd sat down and had a civilized conversation, instead of simply trying to beat the crap out of people.

Honestly, Fullmetal, you were a fucking nightmare. As the years went by, I was starting to think that you would never mellow out...

But my point is that you were very angry with the world back in the day. Knowing you as long as I've known you, I struggled to see you being any other way. And I struggled to understand why you would choose to bring a new life into this world which has been so very unkind to you. Even now, I'm still thinking over such a notion.

However, I think back to when I held Al's baby in my arms. I remember the weight of him, and the warmth of him, and the sort of exhilaration I felt when he looked up at me and smiled for the first time. I turned to Alphonse when Jian did this, and I saw that Alphonse was smiling back at me as well. I realize now that when your brother stopped by my house that afternoon, he had in mind a certain wish for me. He wished for me to experience the same happiness that he felt. And I know of no one more deserving of such happiness than you.

I'm not going to expand on the redeeming qualities you possess, so as not to over-inflate your ego. But my advice to you is to continue as you are. And though you may find it difficult, believe that there exists good in the world. All you need to do to find that good is to look in the mirror.

I wish you and your wife all the best, and I hope that the new baby arrives healthy and happy. I know that you will be wonderful parents.

 

Yours,

Roy Mustang


	3. July 6, 1918

Dear Edward,

 

Though I left Resembool first thing in the morning, I returned to Central quite late in the evening. And so for the first time in years, I decided that I would work from home for two days. Riza brought me the papers I needed to look through, and I had people call my house if something urgent came up during the day. I read over papers while sitting at my kitchen table, and I finished up in the early afternoon. I stood at the kitchen sink with the window above that looks out onto the street, and I just washed the dishes and looked outside. After a late dinner, I sat on the back porch and watched thefireflies twinkle and dance over the patch of grass that is my backyard.

It was all very quiet. And sort of sad.

I thought of you.

You see, my parents passed away when I was six years old. It was very late at night, and mother was sick, and so my father left me with my aunt so he could drive my mother to the hospital. My father was in a hurry, and it was very dark, and somehow their vehicle ended up colliding with another.

After they died, I became rather withdrawn, so much so that my aunt sent me to see a psychologist. One of the girls from the bar drove me to a small town a few miles south of New Optain, and while I do not remember my parents or their passing, I do remember something I said during my session with the doctor. The doctor was quite direct- she asked if I understood what was going on, and I said that I understood. She then asked how I felt about my parents being gone.

And I said that I thought it was funny.

That was a very strange thing of me to say, but the word that I was looking for was 'strange'. I felt strange. In that I did not know how I should have felt. Now, as an adult, I believe that perhaps I should have felt more than I did. I cried, but maybe I should have cried longer. I think about things like that.

The one thing that I will not do is pretend that I know of the grief that you are going through in this troubling time. I am by no means comparing the loss of my parents to the tragic loss of your baby. But rather, I am saying that after all of this time, I am still unsure of how to deal with such strong emotion. At first, I thought that there was something wrong with me. Something wrong with my behavior, or something wrong with the way I felt, but now I know that isn't so. I simply do not know of myself, and of how to articulate what is held within.

I should have come up to you and Winry during the funeral, and said something. But you were both so quiet through the whole thing, and you spent the entire service at Miss Rockbell's side. And so I felt like it was almost wrong to approach and interrupt, especially when I had no words to say in mind. But in retrospect, I should have come up and talked to you.

I hope I didn't come off as being cold. I can seem like that sometimes.

But anyway, I sat on my back porch, and I thought of you. I thought of that quiet night in Resembool. I thought of sitting on the steps of your front porch, and looking over the dark hills and at the stars hanging in the sky.

You know, I really wasn't expecting your company, and so when you stepped out of the house and sat down next to me, it was a bit of a surprise. And as I sat on my own porch, I felt a certain tightness in my throat. Though the moment haunts me, I still wonder if you felt that same tightness in your own throat before you leaned against my shoulder and sobbed. There have been few times that I have ever felt more for someone.

I had never witnessed someone cry the way you did that evening. At the very beginning, before I realized how damp the shoulder of my shirt had become, I thought you were holding back a laugh.

Things are quite funny.

Though several days have passed since I last saw you, I wanted to make sure that you know how sorry I am for the loss of your daughter. If you need anything, or just want someone to talk to, please don't hesitate to call or write.

 

Yours,

Roy Mustang


End file.
